


you belong here

by Ceryna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, it's soft hours y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceryna/pseuds/Ceryna
Summary: Inviting Shirabu over to study together was a good idea, Semi insists. It’s not Shirabu’s fault he can’t focus– that’s a lie.It’s totally Shirabu’s fault.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 230
Collections: Haikyuu Valentines





	you belong here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiroiimye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiroiimye/gifts).



> hello + welcome to my first work of 2020! This was written for the lovely @kiroiimye as part of the @hqvalentines exchange!! They gave me several prompts, but the one I went with was a first kiss/confessions scene with Semishira. 
> 
> This is my first time writing for Semi, I hope y'all enjoy!

Semi sighs, resting the top of his pen in the corner of his mouth. After waiting a careful ten, maybe fifteen seconds, he slowly flicks his gaze up and across the table and kotatsu–

To where Shirabu leans, one hand propping up his chin and the other gently pressing the spine of one of his short novels to the coffee table as he reads. His brow is furrowed, lip quirked up in the slightest of smiles as he turns the page, focus intense... not unlike when he’s on the court. 

They’re rarely on the same side of it– not just because they’re both setters, but because of their banter. What may have started with insults (and maybe some injuries) descended into petty bickering, and only got more scathing as they grew into a friendship.

Semi bites his lip. A friendship, which he’s finding himself closer and closer to risking the longer he stays in Shirabu’s company. He closes his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath–

“Sleeping on the job?”

Semi blinks his eyes open to reveal Shirabu– one eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing his lips– and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. “No.” 

The denial is both an answer to Shirabu’s question and a request to the butterflies in his chest. 

“You sure about that?”

_Yes._

When they study together, it’s the two of them in a quiet room, framed by late afternoon sunlight or the glimmer of LED lamps, even after long hours of class and practice, when he probably should be sleeping–

He feels awake. 

“Semisemi?”

Oh, Shirabu is goading him now. The butterflies dance in Semi’s veins, not-so-subtly pushing his heart into his throat. 

Semi will take the center tests next week– he really should be studying. While he’s never been the best student, or the most efficient, he’s gotten by– he’s always found more comfort in his extracurriculars. He loves the feeling of _doing,_ whether that’s playing volleyball, volunteering in his community, or writing music. He enjoys that, so much more than classroom learning and his head bent over textbooks–

Textbooks that will help him get into university.

So here he is, with quite possibly the smartest person on the team, maybe even at Shiratorizawa, who’s helping him prepare for that test. The one that will decide his entire future. 

Dread looms like thunderclouds, and Semi– he lets the pen clatter to the table. He barely registers Shirabu’s surprised blink before he buries his face in his hands. 

Semi stays there, staring into the darkness in his palms. Distantly, he hears the rustle of paper– Shirabu closing his book. There’s a click of a pen, a shuffling of fabric, and then the floorboards creak as Shirabu wanders somewhere.

The creaks draw closer, and then a quiet, “Semi.” Shirabu’s voice is gentle, and he nudges Semi’s shoulder– he must’ve come around the kotatsu and knelt on the cushion next to Semi.

Semi, despite the cold weight on his shoulders, feels the back of his neck warm under the gesture. He swallows, pushing against the butterflies and nerves and dread–

“Eita.”

Semi’s head snaps up, blinking against the rush of light settling over his eyes to find Shirabu sitting next to him, a small, green paper bag hanging loosely off his left index finger. _Shirabu called him by his first name–_

“I was going to wait...” Shirabu offers a minimal shrug. “But it seems you need this now.” His voice is neutral, almost bored– but his eyes are watching Semi. Carefully analyzing.

Semi reaches for the bag, for what he assumes is a gift– with trembling fingers. He dips his hand inside, withdrawing a square brown box. Glancing up from the gift, Semi finds that Shirabu is no longer looking at him, which has an eyebrow quirking up.

Gently, he pulls the lid off the box– revealing a black corded bracelet with a silver clasp. The leather gleams under the lamplight– Semi picks it up, the fabric smooth under his fingertips. There’s no frills or embellishments, and the clasp is simple, without an engraved design. 

It also looks… _expensive._ Something that Semi might think to buy for himself– would have liked, and thought about, but decided buying it wasn’t urgent. 

He bites his lip, unclasping the bracelet and gingerly slipping it over his left hand. Semi can feel Shirabu's eyes on him as the leather kisses the inside of his wrist, clasp whispering shut against his skin. 

"How much did you spend on me, huh, _Kenjirou?"_ Semi teases, mouth curling into a smile– that stretches even wider when a pretty blush blooms on Shirabu's cheeks. 

Shirabu glares at him... but with minimal scathing intent. "Enough," he bites out– not in anger, it seems, as his cheeks flare an even deeper pink. But his gaze meets Semi’s, and holds it as he says, “you’re worth it.” 

Three words– not an _I love you,_ but pretty damn close. 

So close, in fact, that Semi risks it. He feels his smile twitch, nervously, as he reaches out and cups Shirabu’s face in his hands and leans in, and in, and in– until their foreheads are touching, breaths mingling, as he says three words. 

“So are you.”

And Semi holds his breath as Shirabu–

Shirabu shudders in his fingers, tongue darting out to wet his lips, hands reaching up, up– not to push Semi away, but to grasp Semi’s hair, tugging him down, and–

Oh. 

_Oh._

Shirabu tastes like mint. Mint and… green tea. His fingers tighten in Semi’s hair, pulling a groan from Semi, and Semi– feels Shirabu smile against his mouth, and leans closer. 

The floor cushion slides under their weight, toppling them over. Semi’s back thuds into hardwood, reverberations shocking the nerves up to his collarbones, but his head never meets the floor–

Doesn’t meet it because Shirabu’s hands– that were fists in his hair just moments ago– cradle his head and the back of his neck. 

Semi takes a good, long look, breath halting in his lungs as he takes in Shirabu– head haloed by the light from ceiling lamp, eyes wide with concern as he kneels, Semi’s waist sandwiched between his thighs–

And Semi’s blood sings, his cheeks flaming crimson. “Are you t-trying to kiss me into a concussion?” He stumbles over his words, but his hands are steady as they reach up– one carding softly through Shirabu’s hair, the other reaching around Shirabu’s back to pull him into a hug.

Shirabu scoffs into Semi’s chest, but curls into the gesture. “Don’t tempt me.” He trails a finger over the braided leather of the bracelet, tracing warmth into Semi’s skin. 

“What’s _really_ tempting,” Semi says, warmth seeping into his chest, “is calling you my boyfriend.” He pauses as Shirabu’s head snaps up, cheeks dusted pink and mouth falling open with a soft gasp– “If that’s okay with you?”

Shirabu’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Sure,” he says, with a smirk that Semi can’t resist leaning over to kiss. 

Semi lingers until he’s breathless, mint on his tongue and lips swollen as he leans back to the floor, dazed. In the silence that follows, he hears Shirabu murmur something that sounds an awful lot like “I thought you’d never ask.”

To be fair, the question has been sitting in the back of Semi’s mind for a while. 

He wondered how he should bring it up, what he would say, _if_ he should even say anything– he’s going to be in university in the spring if things go to plan, and he isn’t sure if he’ll be in Miyagi, or Tokyo, or even in Japan. 

He's been so worried about where he'll go, whether he's worthy of his future– that being reminded he's worthy of his present... is priceless.

And that's not even counting his luck on receiving the affections of _Shirabu Kenjirou–_

"Eita." 

Shirabu gives him a look, one that silently judges him. "Your mind ran away from you, didn't it."

Semi chuckles. "It did," he agrees, "but it came back. To _you."_

"Good." Shirabu leans down until they're nose to nose again, but this time– _this time,_ he cups Semi's face in his hands, the pads of his fingers skimming over Semi's cheeks. "You belong _here."_

And Semi knows Shirabu isn't talking about the room or Shiratorizawa. Not Miyagi or Japan– it's none of that. Because right now, Semi is in Shirabu's arms. 

He's in Shirabu's arms, and there's no place he'd rather be.

"I fit in your arms quite nicely, don't I, Kenjirou?" 

Shirabu blinks at Semi, one eyebrow rising up, and rolls his eyes. "Shut up." 

And before Semi can finish saying _make me,_ Shirabu does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story (^^)
> 
> comments help fuel my writing! i'd love to know your favorite line, if you like the story and characterization ^^
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ceryna_writes)


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